With a Whisper
by Quillified
Summary: "With a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas. Like a feather, bringing kingdoms to their knees." {Toph and Sokka through the years. Between professional misconduct, drinks, failed romances, an unexpected pregnancy, and a dangerous criminal's final attack, they've stuck together, and they always will.}
1. Chapter 1: Parents

Chapter One: Parents

Katara is nursing a newborn Kya when a question pops into Sokka's head.

"Toph, do you ever think about being a parent?"

"No," she shrugs, standing next to him in the hospital hallway. "How would I raise a kid?"

"Like a boss," he nudges her, and she grins. "Seriously, I think you'd make a great mom."

Toph doesn't say anything, but her mouth twitches.

"You'd make a great dad," she replies. "What about you, then, Mr. Baby-crazy? You ever think about having kids?"

"Having them, no," he smirks, "but I think about raising them sometimes, yeah." A moment of silence, then, "I really think I wanna be a dad one day."

There is a note of wistful sadness in his voice. Toph bites her lip, then hesitantly says, "Tell you what, if you still want any kids in a month or two, I'll bend one out of mud and we can raise it together."

"Oh, a mudchild," Sokka muses. "I see what you did there."

Toph previously thought she'd outgrown the age of flushing, but the heat on her face says otherwise. Sokka hasn't outgrown his oblivious nature, it seems, because he says a moment later, "It saves the kid the trouble of getting dirty already!"

"And you can't clean it, because then it'll be gone," Toph grins. "It's perfect, I tell you."

"Genius," Sokka agrees. Kya, within, starts fussing, and Aang, with Katara's direction, makes soothing noises to comfort his brand-new daughter.

"Hey, Toph," Sokka says slowly, "if…if either one of us, by some crazy happenstance, ends up with a kid…and…you know…no one else to raise it with…do you think we could raise it together? I mean, with me as Uncle or you as Aunt or whatever?"

Toph kneads her lip with her teeth, then nods.

"I guess I can work with that," she grins. "If you ever give birth, Sokka, I will be there for you. I will raise that kid as my own niece."

"I'm so relieved," Sokka laughs, putting his hand over his heart. "We're gonna be the most awesome half-parents ever."

"No doubt," Toph nods sagely. "Though I think, for what it's worth, we'd make awesome real parents, too."

"Yup," Sokka sighs. "Maybe. One day."

"One day."

* * *

A/N: Welcome to Quilly's Latest Project, which is a hugely self-indulgent project that I've been working on since Tokka Week. Those of you who were tuned-in to Tokka Week and saw my entries, many of these installments will be familiar, though I've polished them up and added about three or four new stories to tie it all together.

And I'm posting it all at once, so I don't have to worry about update schedules.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


	2. Chapter 2: Duty

Chapter Two: Duty

It's another late night for Chief Bei Fong and Councilman Sokka, but both manage to show up at their usual bar around two in the morning and grin at each other when they see (or sense) each other coming.

"You're late," Sokka teases.

"Like you're one to talk," Toph replies, punching his arm once they are close enough. "Come on. Drinks on me this time."

"Thank the spirits for bars," Sokka sighs, chivalrously holding the door open and motioning to the half-asleep bartender. It's surprisingly crowded for three in the morning, but quiet just the same, the hard-working factory laborers and clerks and college students in contemplative late-night-early-morning stupors.

"And thank the spirits for spirits," Toph snickers, slipping into her usual barstool and groping for her shot glass for a minute before the bartender puts it right in her hand. The first shot thrown back, they relax a little, ignoring stares at Toph's uniform and Sokka's Councilman getup.

They make stabs at small talk, but mostly drink, companionable silence their mode of communication. Usually the bar is more lively, but in the quiet Toph starts nodding off and Sokka decides it isn't his scene tonight, so they leave.

When Toph and Sokka walk side-by-side in Republic City, it causes a tremor. Criminals shake in their boots, the gossipers wink at each other, the bartenders hide their wares. They are a powerful force of nature, and to deny that would be pointless. Both enjoy the attention, both enjoy knowing that they'd helped people in their tenures as Chief of Police and Councilman respectively. When their feet fall in tandem it shakes the city to its underbelly.

When they were younger the newly-sprung-up gossip columns and tabloids liked insinuating that something was happening between them. Toph turned pink but easily denied all allegations. Sokka smiled genially but stammered his way through puttings-down of the rumors. It wouldn't work, both claimed, they were too close. Friends, just really good friends.

Tonight, however, though they are dressed for the parts, they are simply two friends who've had a little too much to drink at a sleepy bar and think themselves the funniest things on the face of the earth, nudging each other and laughing and occasionally tripping and laughing some more. Sokka's flat is first, and he bows low and sweeps his arms around outrageously.

"G'night, Toffffff," he slurs, giggling to himself as he straightens. "Yerrrrr pretty."

"'Nighty-night, Snoozles," Toph snorts. "Yerrrrrrr pretty, too."

They smile soppily at each other, and without even realizing it they both lean forward and bump mouths. It is uncomfortable, chins and teeth and noses getting in the way, but as the snap of a journalist's camera a little bit away records for posterity, it's undeniable what's just happened. To everyone but the participants, however; Sokka smiles and pats the top of her head and staggers inside, and Toph weaves her way half a block back to her own living quarters with a silly smile on her face.

The next morning a red-faced Councilman storms into a hung-over Chief of Police's office and slaps a newspaper on her desk.

"Yes?" Toph asks, voice like gravel.

"We need to talk," Sokka replies severely.

"I know," she grunts. "Gin brought it to my attention when I came in this morning."

"What are we gonna do?" Sokka asks in a low voice, seating himself in the chair across from her desk and scooting closer. "The Council's in an uproar over it."

"So what?" Toph shrugs carelessly, though her hands are shaking. "Let 'em get their pants in a twist. They do it often enough over stupider things."

"Toph, we could both lose our jobs over this," he murmurs. She doesn't freeze or sit up like he is expecting her to, but her fingers grow more frantic, weaving around each other and tapping restlessly. "You know how this looks."

"The most influential member of the Council, involved with the esteemed Police Chief? Yeah, Sokka, I know exactly how it looks," Toph snaps. "You don't need to tell me. I know. I've already been contacted by my superiors and there's going to be an investigation."

"You, too, huh?" Sokka sighs, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I don't get it. Why can't they just butt out of our personal lives? It's not like we got caught doing the deed right on my desk. It was just one drunk," he checks the picture, "pretty bad-looking kiss."

"I mean…I don't even remember it, to be honest," Toph shrugs. "They just hate us because we're awesome."

"Toph, you're nearly thirty years old. Surely 'awesome' has worn out its welcome by now," Sokka says, though his voice holds little bite.

"Never," she replies stubbornly, though she sounds more tired than incorrigible. "Sokka, what are we gonna do?"

"I don't know," he mutters, loosing another sigh. "I don't know."

Though the story causes a public stir, the investigation is small and private, and since nothing more scandalous is discovered the public loses interest within a week. Them being who they are, both offenders are given the equivalent of a slap on the wrist and a warning to keep it professional, they work together, after all.

The weekly bar meetings peter out. Chief Bei Fong is advised to work with another Councilman for her more public cases. Councilman Sokka is advised to stick to charity work and gaining the public's vote for the upcoming elections. Avatar Aang and Master Katara do a great deal of PR patch-ups for the story, but the damage to the private friendship is done.

A month or two after the incident they find themselves sitting alone in a different bar, on opposite sides of the room and both in civilian dress. It is Sokka who comes to Toph, and both nurse their drinks in silence.

"This sucks," Toph says finally.

"What else can we do, though?" Sokka shrugs, scrubbing his hand over his scalp. "I've got political rivals breathing down my neck and you've got those stupid directors keeping a close eye on you."

"I know." She empties her glass and stands, touching Sokka's wrist. "Councilman."

He takes hold of her hand and squeezes her fingers. "Chief."

She lingers a second too long, then slides her hand away and exits the bar. Sokka looks at his drink and pushes it away, tracing aimless patterns on the table and feeling something akin to homesickness as her solid footsteps fade away.

* * *

A/N: And with this chapter, I give you: ANGST.


	3. Chapter 3: Stone

Chapter Three: Stone

It's a point of personal and professional pride with Toph that once her decision is made, it's set in stone. The career-saving choice to cut ties with Councilman Sokka, at least for a little while, is no different.

(She hates that even in her head she has to treat him with cool distance.)

For the most part, she's pleased with herself for sticking with it. She hasn't so much as nodded at him for several months. The public still picks at the story when they're bored, but other than that, the heat's died down.

(Or so she's told. She keeps a tight lid on why she's really avoiding him now. No one needs to know that the difference between her at twelve and her at thirty is a badge and a suit of armor.)

Mr. So-and-So on the Council is throwing a gala tonight, and as Director Chang informs her, Toph's attendance is mandatory. Republic City's government officials know she's still the best of the best, and it would be unseemly to now show support for the newly-elected members, _so find yourself something pretty to wear and get your butt uptown, Bei Fong_.

Her initial anti-authority kneejerk aside, his points make sense. Her "something pretty" is pulled together by Katara, who is midway through her second pregnancy and in that irritating bubbly stage Toph doesn't hate nearly as much as she should.

The really excellent thing about rich people, Toph muses as she pretends to mingle, is that they have penchants for marble floors. She's unfamiliar with the voices, steps, and heartbeats in the room, as many as there are, but she can pick Sokka's out with ease. He's telling a story about getting two fishhooks stuck in his thumb, laughing with his audience and holding out his arm for—

_Oh_.

She has to rein in her automatic reaction. She's too old to storm from rooms in an adolescent funk. Luckily for her, she's found by someone she was hoping to meet, anyway.

"Toph, my dear, how are you?" Yuuko Jinxei booms, clapping her on the shoulder. "You look lovely, my dear, just lovely!"

"Yuuko," Toph beams, letting the older man hug her and getting a nose full of fluffy, wispy hair, "good to see you."

"Figuratively, I assume?" Yuuko chuckles merrily, discreetly maneuvering her towards the refreshments and putting a cup of punch in her hand. She grins. "As the young people are fond of saying these days, 'what's up'?"

"Nothing much," Toph shrugs, aware of Yuuko's penchant for juicy gossip. "Thieves and jaywalkers, is all."

"Ah, peacetimes are so boring," Yuuko sighs, then chuckles again. "But war is hideous. One former soldier to another, I prefer being bored to being stabbed or crushed." Toph merely smiles, since in her twisted heart of hearts she knows exactly which she prefers. "Enough about that. Where's young Master Sokka?"

She gives him a tight, bland lip-twitch and thumbs the general direction. "Entertaining."

"I see," Yuuko sniffs. "Glamorous little thing, that Miss Su, though I never pegged Sokka for the type to pick dates for mere glamour." She can almost feel his scrutinizing gaze. "Everything alright, my dear?"

"Peachy," she hisses, though she doesn't mean to; Miss Su's laugh carries and it sounds like silver bells.

"Pity," Yuuko harrumphs in his throat. "I much prefer it when you two are friends, you know."

She shrugs, because it's the only safe thing to do.

"I particularly enjoy it when you both agree to come thin out my winery," he teases, but recent memory stiffens her spine. Luckily, she's not friends with Yuuko merely because of his congeniality. The old man is shrewd and observant to a fault. "Perhaps another time."

The music sways on and Toph's toes tap an impatient rhythm into the floor. She stops when she accidentally starts kicking up little bumps in the floor and certain dignitaries start tripping.

"Toph," Yuuko finally says, and his voice is dead serious, "avoidance is hardly a virtue."

She swallows around the sudden lump in her throat, because that's all she does, isn't it? For all the earthbender "straight and steady" talk, she's anything but in the face of emotional confrontation.

"I'm not avoiding anything," she replies after far, far too long a pause.

(Her hands start fidgeting. They've been doing that a lot, recently.)

"That is complete moose-lion bull butter," Yuuko says sternly. Toph breaks into a sudden snort of laughter, and Yuuko allows her time to mop up the punch she'd been drinking before continuing. "Listen to me carefully. I've been in your social circle since before the police force was the size it is today, young lady, and it has not escaped my notice that neither you nor Sokka are happy at all about the current arrangement."

"He seems fine," Toph says without thinking, inclining her head in the direction of the laughter leaking her way.

"Don't make me spout nonsense at you again, my dear, I'm far too hard-pressed to top my last outburst as it is," Yuuko chastises. "He is far from fine, unless 'fine' is in this case a rather colorful acronym my granddaughter was telling me about earlier today." He nudges her. "You know him best. Tell me what you see."

She doesn't have the energy to take the neatly-presented joke opportunity, instead firmly planting her feet. She already knows what's going on, knew it before she came tonight, because his laughter is too hearty and he's kept his back to her the entire time. A little more digging and she senses Councilman Yang nearby, and scowls. Yang Su would, of course, be hovering. His daughter is, like so many unfortunate young girls Toph's met, a double-edged weapon: a tool to keep an eye on Sokka tonight, and, if Yang has his way, a future way to forge a political alliance that runs straight to the Avatar and therefore has footholds in all areas of Republic City's workings.

(She momentarily wonders if Twinkletoes would try to stop her if she decides to bury the Councilman up to his eyes, but he and Katara are already making their excuses and leaving early. She toys around with the thought and ultimately discards it. No need to get back in the doghouse with the directors after she's just gotten out.)

"It's been four months since the story ran," Yuuko hints. "I think that's long enough, don't you?"

She nods, stands, takes several steps in Sokka's direction, and is waylaid by Director Chang.

"Chief! Good to see you!" Chang says, his voice all niceness but his hands tight and steering her away.

(She makes the mental note that next time he does something like that he's going to lose his hands. He seems to sense this and immediately lets her go, but doesn't stop herding her away.)

The night is exhausting from then on. Yuuko watches primly as Toph's every attempt to sidle up to her longtime friend is blocked by someone with more authority than her and a say in how long she gets to keep her job. Ridiculous, he muses—he was commanding an airship the first time he met her, en-route to the Earth Kingdom. If the metal-plated little girl back then could see what was happening now, there would be a very _smashing_ incident, pun intended. Yuuko himself can't do much, unfortunately—his pockets are not as deep as the obstacles' are, and his duties are mainly clerical and alcoholic, anyway—but he _can_ pretend to be drunk and talk at the top of his voice about the state of affairs in his brewery, within earshot of Sokka, and the latest half-truth scandal in the ears of any and all passers-by. Unfortunately, like Toph, Sokka's attention isn't his to command, either. Whenever he turns to seek out Yuuko or Toph he's blocked by the pretty heiress he's brought as his date or her steely-eyed father.

The night is nearly over when Toph collapses into a chair and huffs angrily, burying her face in her arms. Yuuko pats her shoulder, silent and equally put-out.

It's a matter of personal and professional pride with Toph that when she makes a decision, it's set in stone, Yuuko thinks as the despondent police chief gets up and leaves the gala. However, he notes as Sokka looks miserably in her direction, she seems to forget sometimes that she's an earthbender.

* * *

A/N: Unfortunately, Yuuko doesn't show up after this chapter, much as I love his character; he's a greatly underutilized source of hilarity and friendship. One might ask why I included him anyway if he just shows up here, but the answer is that I love him too much to cut him entirely, and he serves an excellent purpose in this chapter. SO. Um. Here you go.


	4. Chapter 4: Broken

Chapter Four: Broken

Toph wakes up with her head pounding and her body aching, but her limbs are tangled around his and she's already smiling.

His name is Kenji, he's a PI , a little older than her, and she thinks she might be in love with him.

He stirs awake not long after, putting roughened palms against her skin and smiling a kiss into her hair.

"Morning, Chief," he rasps (she likes the rasp. It does funny things to her stomach).

"Morning, Detective," she grins. "Ready for another day of tracking, drinking, and yelling?"

"Oh, always," he chuckles, kissing the tip of her nose. "Breakfast?"

"Please," she nods. She's at his apartment, and although it's been years since it was installed in her own place she's still not sure about this indoor plumbing junk; however, she needs to bathe and she has time to kill. The smells of tea and sweet rolls greet her when she gets out, and she contemplates getting dressed before shrugging and walking to the kitchen in one of his shirts, still soaking wet.

It's a while before they make it into work, but she's not worried—her officers are well-trained and have been tailing Mr. Xin diligently, so if he so much as twitches in the direction of out-of-town she'll have him in cuffs before he can open his mouth to squeal. Kenji comes with her, because he's consulting on this case due to his past work experience with Mr. Xin's alleged gang activities. He stands too close and she feels her mouth bruising after an impromptu break, but for whatever reason no one makes a stink about it.

The alert comes at three that afternoon, and Toph has to remember that she's not allowed to break the streets while in pursuit anymore. Luckily, she's a fast runner. So is Kenji. They beat the rest of the squad there.

Xin is like any other rat when cornered, but Toph forgets the full meaning of that statement and charges, rocks at the ready and confident this is one fight she can make close and personal (a little bit of showing off; some up-close combat looks cooler than containing the threat from a distance). She may forget she's blind, but other people don't. Kenji certainly doesn't. It's over in a flash; one minute she's preparing to put Xin in a full-body cast, the next she's on the ground and Kenji is making weird sputtering noises. Xin is borne to the ground and cuffed before he can make another move.

She leaps to Kenji's side and worriedly starts probing his torso, and feels the upright shaft of a knife.

"Hey," Kenji gurgles, "listen to me. Listen." He roughly grabs her chin, but it's gently that he draws her down. He doesn't say anything else, because she latches onto him and only breaks when he starts coughing. There's something warm and wet on his lips that doesn't taste like the tea from earlier. It's seeping into her mouth as she desperately holds on, stroking his hair. She wants to tell him that he'll be alright, but her throat won't work.

Katara's working at the hospital today, but it's too late. He's dead when they bring him in, and she can't heal that. Toph yells and says a bunch of horrible things she thinks she means and runs.

Time blurs for her, but for the outside world, she's absent for three weeks at least. She doesn't attend the funeral. She tells Katara to piss off when she comes by and listens as Katara breaks down on the other side of the door and tries to keep it quiet (there's a second tiny heartbeat fluttering alongside Katara's, and the knowledge almost makes Toph break down and open up, but she doesn't). She spends her days sitting at her table and her nights howling silently at the universe. She doesn't eat often, and after a few weeks, when she does she sits by her toilet and waits for it to inevitably come back up. Aang visits eventually, and kindly doesn't make good on his threat to break down the door because Toph asks him to please tell his wife she's sorry (he refuses her that much, but promises to tell Katara that Toph's being…civil). The kindness he shows in allowing her her privacy doesn't go over her head, either. She makes a mental note that she owes him one and hustles back to the bathroom.

It's almost a month and two puke breaks when there's a hesitant knock on her front door.

She's weak and sick and her hair is in knots, so when the door opens on its own she's considering her defenses carefully. She settles on meteor needles to the face when the quiet tap comes on her bathroom door.

"It's me," Sokka says gently.

"If the door's locked, meathead, it means go away," Toph says, her voice cracking and tears pricking at her eyes. He sits down outside of her door, and she wonders how she didn't recognize him, but her "vision" has been off lately.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "Spirits, Toph, I'm…I'm so sorry."

He's not just talking about Kenji. She knows this to her core. She opens the door and lets him wrap her up in his arms for the first time since The Incident.

He doesn't speak as she sobs her heart out into his shirt, and holds her hair when she has to vomit again. It comes out as dry-heaving.

"Have you eaten?" he asks. "I mean…could you eat something?"

She shrugs and lets him set her on her feet and follows him into the kitchen.

He takes care of her that night, talking to her and making jokes and trying to lighten the mood, and for the first time in a very long time she feels human again. It's when he goes to leave that she panics. He grabs a blanket off her bed and promises to be on the sofa when she needs him. She takes what she can get.

They visit the grave the next day, and Toph's eyes are dry. She goes back to work, and answers Director Chang's questions politely (it's the politeness that tells Chang that she is still Very Not Okay and prompts him to spare her the lecture about how close she came to losing her job…again. If she's gone any longer it'll be chaos, anyway). She testifies at Xin's trial and doesn't smile when he's convicted of all crimes. Sokka delivers the sentence and gives it without a trace of his regular charm.

It's about the time the trial ends and Toph stands to leave that she senses a weird steady thump when she walks and sits and does anything, really. It plagues her until Katara, rounding out and heavier-stepped and also double-thumping, shows up with a pot of her favorite soup big enough to feed an army.

She keeps the knowledge to herself, enjoying the unexpectedly soothing company of her family. Little Kya and Bumi and their father show up as Toph's tucking into her second bowl, bearing tea and rice and bread, and all in all it's a glorious distraction she didn't realize how badly she missed.

She hugs Katara when she means to say Sorry and punches Aang when she means to thank him, and when all but Sokka have gone she tells him the news.

"Oh." He sits down hard. "Oh, wow."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence. Toph squirms and Sokka processes. He slaps his knees, finally.

"I'm here for you," he says firmly. "Like my own nephew, remember?"

"I think the word I used was niece," Toph smiles, and even though her heart is broken and she's extremely confused she feels oddly at peace.

"Hey." He puts his hands on her shoulders. "I'm here. Okay?"

"Aye, aye, Captain," she says weakly, falling into his chest and letting go when he kisses the top of her head quickly and awkwardly.

He leaves, and she lies awake wondering how it's possible that she loves a man who took a knife for her and a man who didn't let her fall equally fiercely. She imagines she feels a very slight stirring in her belly and spreads her hand there. The cold edge of the meteor, today in bracelet form, warms as she rubs small circles into her abdomen.

_How, indeed._

* * *

__A/N: Yeah. I've bungled many things in this fic. Kenji is one of them, but I could find no way to fit him in earlier, since this particular romance was seriously so quick I couldn't work it without making this chapter another thousand words long with exposition. It was over as quickly as it began, but don't let the lack of longevity fool you; sometimes, romances within the span of a few days can burn as bright and true as those that take years to build.

And I couldn't make Lin's dad some lowlife who left. He had to be a hero, someone worthy of being Lin Bei Fong's father, someone who Lin could look up to, worthy to stand with her many honorable honorary aunts and uncles.


	5. Chapter 5: Help

Chapter Five: Help

It was a deceptively easy pregnancy.

That's the first relatively calm thought in Toph's head when all is said and done and she is wide-awake with a real-live baby in the crook of her arm. She hasn't decided on a name yet. Everyone around her has told her that the baby is a girl and that she is beautiful, but Toph doesn't measure beauty the same as the others.

To her, this baby is radiant—and terrifying.

She's alone in the birthing room with a bell pull to signal for the nurses and the instruction to think of a name soon. The baby cried a lot at first, but with some direction from the nurses latched on and was soon fed. Toph's face and hair feel stiff with drying sweat, but this little person—she feels new. Small, squishy, soft, and new.

Toph hasn't moved since the baby fell asleep, but it's not exactly new mother jitters. Not the way Katara described it, anyway. This is more full-blown panic, a fear that cuts her to her core. She's never been around babies before. She doesn't know how to take care of a poodle-cat, let alone a tiny human. This—she can't do this, she isn't qualified—

Even her usual stubborn obstinacy sounds weak and feeble when it announces that she is Toph Bei Fong and she _can_ do this on her own. She's learned a lot in the past twenty-odd years since she first ran away from home, and one of those things is that…well…sometimes, even the Mighty Toph can't do everything.

Not that it helped this situation any. This baby…she only has one parent. One blind parent who would be just as likely to accidentally give her a bottle of alcohol as milk. Toph hates feeling this way, hates hates _hates_ it, but even if she does still use nicknames and pick her nose, she can do this. She just needs a little direction, is all.

Sokka finds her in her quiet panic mode, fear evident on her face even in the weak morning sunlight. The baby is fussing a little, and Toph's hand is frozen, just inches away from the bell pull.

"Morning," he says quietly, leaving the door open as her fingers twitch.

"Morning," she croaks. The baby grows more insistent.

Sokka wordlessly takes the baby out of Toph's arms and sniffs her.

"Needs a diaper change," Sokka announces.

"And a feeding," Toph grimaces. Sokka reaches over and is about to ring the bell pull when she grabs his wrist.

"Toph," he frowns, but she shakes her head firmly.

"I can do it," she says stubbornly. "Show me how and I can do it."

"I'm no expert, but I think we need diapers first," he replies. "I'm not any good at this stuff, either. Just let the nice nurses take care of everything until you're good to go home, and then Katara can show us both. Okay?"

Toph relents and lets Sokka ring for the too-perky too-motherly nurse.

The first few days are a trial. The baby won't stop crying, and Toph is so flustered by it that she actually screams back at first. She's unnerved by Aang's uncanny ability to quiet her daughter with a few gentle bounces and resents Katara's skill with diaper-changing. The only thing that makes it better is that it's both Toph and Sokka getting lectured by her when they decide it's a good idea to just let the kid run free for a while (not so good when they both have to clean up the mess before the baby can go down in the crib, but hey, it's a work in progress). Her "family" are in her house so often it's like they live there, too; Sokka comes over every day before and after work and brings her news of the outside world as she tries to give her daughter a bath in two inches of water. Yuuko stops by a few times, too, bringing some much-needed and suspiciously new baby equipment. He's enchanted by the baby, of course, and babbles at her for a full hour before Toph, straining to contain a smile, asks if he wants any tea.

She decides on the name Lin. When asked she shrugs and says she just always liked the name. She doesn't mention that it reminds her of when she first ran away, all the campfires and dangers and excitement in the Earth Kingdom forests before they gave way to oceans and islands and then cities.

Lin is an easy baby, by Katara's standards, but she's not there at two in the morning when Toph can't figure out what's wrong and gets so frustrated she cries, too. She's not there when Lin spits up and Toph gets a faceful.

Lin is three months old, though, by the time Director Chang pays a visit.

Sokka's over, playing with Lin, and Toph is catching a much-needed catnap when the knock on the door wakes her. She trudges up and opens the door to admit her boss. He doesn't cross the threshold, but Sokka's voice is audible and the baby's giggles are, too. She imagines the line of his mouth tightening (then imagines punching it), but his first words are congenial.

"Congratulations," he says, shaking Toph's limp hand. "Got that motherhood glow about you, I see."

The only glow Toph can think of is the increasingly irritable itch spreading from her head to her stomach that has an unruly amount of control over her fists.

"It's about work," he says, more uneasily, and Toph sets her jaw, ready for his well-worn "You're pushing it" speech.

"We…the directors, that is…we just want to make sure that you'll be alright," he says, and there's a touch of genuine concern in his voice that throws her off-balance, "and we want to tell you that your job is ready and waiting for you when you feel fit."

"Thank you," she says stiffly.

"One more point of business," Chang sighs, lowering his voice. "The directors also want to be sure that the child is…well…"

"Well taken-care of?" Toph injects bluntly. "She is. They don't have to worry."

"Not just that," Chang replies delicately. "You recall the…ahem…fiasco, with Councilman Sokka?"

Toph cleans out her ears. Then she cleans them again.

"I'm sorry," Toph says, a dangerous edge to her voice that makes Chang take a step back, "are you referring to the incident that almost killed a perfectly good friendship because you directors wouldn't butt out of my life?"

"Chief—" Chang tries, but Toph raises her hand like she's about to slap him and he quiets.

"We've been friends for almost twenty years, maybe more, I can't keep track anymore," Toph says heatedly. "He's been here for me since Kenji—" she swallows hard and Chang opens his mouth, but he's woken the beast and he's going to get his due earful, "since I got pregnant, and he's going to be here as long as I need him. And what business is it of yours?"

"He's a city official, Toph, it looks—" Chang does not miss the profanity in her glare as she takes a step back herself.

The door slams shut, and Chang stares at it, a few undignified words of his own stirring in his throat before throwing his hands up and leaving. Toph doesn't much care if he fires her now or not, because Sokka's arms are suddenly around her.

"You are," he says, voice quavering with exaggerated (and some real) emotion, "the craziest, stupidest, most wonderful person I know." He pats the top of her head. "I could never give my bosses that kind of what-for. Well done, your Amazing Metalbenderness!"

"You're too much of a pansy," Toph grins, poking his stomach and making him flinch back. "How's the badgermole?"

"Happy and healthy as an ostrich-horse," Sokka announces, returning to Lin's blanket on the floor. "Isn't she? Isn't she the happiest healthiest baby in the world? Yes she is! Yes she is!"

"I'm gonna gag," Toph laughs. "Stop talking down to my kid."

The unspoken truth between them is that Toph would never ask him to stop, not really. She sips her tea in her customary chair and listens to the sounds of relative peace and quiet. For now, at least.

* * *

A/N: I noticed that up until this moment there'd been a disturbing lack of good old-fashioned Toph and Sokka Banter. So, Toph finally stands up to her boss, and adjusts to being a mom. With her friends there to help her all the way, of course.


	6. Chapter 6: Tears

Chapter Six: Tears

When Sokka doesn't show up one day Toph asks around as to what day it is, just to be sure.

Sokka observes three days of remembrance throughout the year. One is for his mother. One is for the moon.

One is for a woman named Lian.

Little Lin, now almost five years old and already more solemn than Toph expected, is playing in her room, molding the tiny bit of her space earth Toph had broken off long ago and given to her when Sokka first yelled to come quick, the little badgermole's bending. Her chubby fingers are surprisingly dexterous for such a little kid, Toph notes with pride when she passes her own hands lightly over her daughter's.

"Is Uncle Aang coming today?" Lin lisps, and Toph quirks a grin at her.

"Not today, kiddo."

"Oh." She pauses for a moment, then asks, "What about Uncle Sokka?"

"I don't think so," Toph shakes her head.

"Why?"

"Uncle Aang has official Avatar business to take care of," Toph replies, "and Sokka…" she trails off. Lin looks up from her studious earthbending.

Toph eases her space earth off her arm and starts playing with it, much like Lin. Lin watches her mother carefully, then imitates her movements almost perfectly. Toph muses to herself that it's about time Lin got some formal training.

"That's a long story, badgermole," Toph says finally. "And anyway, it's not my story to tell."

"Oh." Lin bites her lip. "Is it a sad story?"

"Sometimes," Toph nods. "It's happy, too. It doesn't have a happy ending, though."

Because Lin, for all her talent and maturity, is still a toddler, she loses interest, molding the space earth like clay in her fingers. Toph gives her small pointers here and there, her mind going back over her old lesson plans from days gone by and constructing a slightly amended plan for Lin. But only slightly; after all, Lin has Bei Fong blood and can handle anything Toph throws at her.

There's a light tap on her door after Lin goes to bed, and Toph goes to admit a much-subdued Sokka reeking of incense and the outdoors. He shows himself to the kitchen and she follows, lifting the whistling kettle from the stove and letting him rummage around for his alcohol of choice. Silently they work in tandem to load a tray with tea, shot glasses, and an assortment of jerky, and when it's complete Sokka carries it to the living room. Toph lays a hand on his arm.

"Let's go to the back room," she shrugs. "Feeling lazy." She refuses to admit that sitting on a stone floor all day is starting to take its toll on her, but Sokka, whose bad knee aches every time it rains, is hardly one to judge; he follows her to her room and sets the tray between them as Toph lays across the foot of the bed, reaching and groping for her teacup before Sokka places it in her hand.

They drink silently, working through the tea and then the sake, dipping jerky into their half-empty cups when they're sated.

"Put flowers by it this time," Sokka slurs. Toph grunts. "She woulda liked 'em."

It's strange how often they end up there, Toph reflects fuzzily. Every time something bad happened, there they were, sharing tea and booze and meat and not talking about it. It had its own healing power, she muses. Sokka gives a little choke, and sniffs.

"Ten years," he says quietly.

Her heart clenches because it's been about five since Kenji and she knocks over empty cups reaching for his hand. They say so many words with their hands that their mouths are incapable of; her fingertips worry over his knuckles and his thumb rasps over the top of her hand. They remain like that for a while, talking hand to hand, then Sokka disentangles his to clear away the tray so they aren't trying to angle over dishes.

Ten years, Toph thinks. So much had happened in ten years, not least of which was the growth of Republic City from a muddy square to a modern new city. Ten years ago she was a young and newly-appointed Chief of Police, shaping a system of law enforcement out of her old school. Sokka was much more enthusiastic and tripped over his tongue back then, when he met Her and everything changed for him.

Toph thought she was too old for jealousy back then, and she was flirting with half a dozen men herself; she was genuinely happy for Sokka when he came to visit her, raving about a beautiful Lady he'd met in the courtyard. He was—they both were—so much more innocent then, despite everything they'd been through already. They both still believed in clean, happy endings.

Lady Lian was sick, very sick; she'd come to a young Republic City seeking the help of the world's greatest healer. Katara, swamped with patients, nevertheless made special arrangements when Sokka asked. She visited Lian most days after her work at the cramped hospital, examining the rapidly expanding growths inside Lian's body and doing her best to quell their spread. Sokka was always there, holding Lian's hand and telling her jokes. He had a better reaction to Katara's final diagnosis than Toph did, a few years later with Kenji.

The first thing he did was ask Lian to marry him, and the ceremony was small and beautiful, warm under the sun. Even tough old Toph's eyes weren't dry, she was happy to say. She'd liked Lian, truly. She was soft-spoken, but composed and determined. It made Toph herself hate Lian's sickness; she felt like, with some time, she and her friend's wife could have been good friends. Another opportunity fate felt compelled to deny her—but that was selfish thinking. She wasn't the only one suffering, and certainly not the first, either. She gave the bride a bejeweled brooch that had been in her family for generations, according to her mother, and gave the fragile woman a hug.

He took a break from his duties (and back then, no one could blame him), carried Lian to a waterfall spa Zuko set aside especially for them, and there lived with her for three months. Toph wasn't especially brushed-up on the details, but she could guess from Katara's descriptions of the disease, which she had thrown herself into studying late into the night until she shook from lack of sleep (Aang put his foot down eventually; between her strenuous hours at the hospital and caring for Kya, then a rambunctious toddler, Katara was doing her usual and stretching herself too thin). In her mind, Toph imagines Lian drying up like a flower in fall. The funeral was in the snow. Sokka had gripped her hand so hard she'd felt the imprints of his fingers for days afterwards.

There is some shifting, and Sokka is suddenly pressed against her side, leaning on and then off her rough-chopped hair (combination accident with Lin and frustration). The proximity alarms her, but Sokka simply holds her hand and continues stroking his thumb across her skin. She tightens her fingers, and he reciprocates, and she coughs a laugh.

"Look at us," she murmurs. "What a pair, huh?"

Sokka grunts, nodding. He clears his throat, sniffs a few more times, and grunts again.

"Toph?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did it have to happen to us?"

She releases a breath through her nose. Bleary and tired as she is, she feels philosophical.

"Suppose it's 'cuz we're the weaklings," she says solemnly.

The pressure from his hand relaxes, then pulses once.

"How'd you figure?"

"Well," she yawns, "lookit Aang and Katara. If they lost each other, they'd think of a way to bring each other back. You 'n me, we're just normal. We let the spirits take whatever they want from us."

"Aang cheats," Sokka murmurs. "Got that whole...spiritual…mumbo-jumbo junk in his favor."

"Guess the spirits don't want us having anything good," Toph sighs, her hand curling around her bedpost. "Done too many bad things."

"Maybe you have," Sokka giggles, and Toph joins him, until they're laughing so hard it hurts and they've got tears streaming down their faces and they're curled into each other. Both of their hands are entwined tight around each other's, crying into her blanket and into each other, and Toph feels something…not heal, exactly, but stitch itself together. There's an ugly scar on her heart, probably always will be, but her best friend's tears are in the threads and she knows some of hers are in the wound in his own chest. A wave of exhaustion rolls over her before she can congratulate herself on the eloquence of her drunken mind, and Sokka throws a hand around her waist. She feels warm comfort in it.

It's awkward and in the morning they have cricks in their necks, but that first night—sharing their heartaches and sleeping it off together—sets a precedent. A standard. A memory. She can't find the right word, but in the future when she introduces Sokka as her best friend, there's a strain of tenderness there that wasn't there before.

The next time Sokka knocks on her door in the middle of the night, she wordlessly lets him in.

* * *

A/N: And now, Sokka's lover. Some might think it tacky to give both Toph and Sokka lovers that die, but unluckily for all of you, I am exactly that brand of tasteless. However, I actually really love Sokka's love story, more so than Toph's; I could write an entire fic based on just this. (Ssssshhh you awful plot bunnies go awaaaaaaay.) For timeline's sake, Lady Lian comes in sometime between Parents and Duty, just so everyone knows. I am horrible and need to set up a more solid chronology, because I know when everything happens, but it might be confusing to y'all. Um. Anyway. Onward!


	7. Chapter 7: Bedtime

Chapter Seven: Bedtime

Toph can hear the sounds of merry-making erupting from her house all the way down the street; related they may not be, but Lin and Sokka are both in possession of a healthy set of lungs. The happiness in their voices makes the droop in Toph's aching shoulders straighten somewhat; by the time she opens her door she's smiling.

Lin and Sokka have a rousing wrestling match going on at the moment, Lin no doubt wired on sweets and adrenaline and Sokka, though older, still energetic. Toph listens and watches as they roll around the stone floor, then laughs.

"Mommy!" Lin crows, disentangling herself from Sokka's faux-headlock and running to give her mother a hug. Sokka stands and follows suit, cracking his back and sighing in satisfaction. "You're home!"

"Sure am, squirt," Toph grins. "Did you have a good time with Uncle Sokka? Give him a good beating from me?"

"As a matter of fact, she did," Sokka chuckles as Lin nodded. Toph smoothes Lin's hair for a moment, then gives her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"I think it's time for bed now."

Lin groans, and to Toph's amusement so does Sokka.

"Can't I stay up just a little bit longer?" she pouts. "Please?"

"We'll be really good," Sokka promises, kneeling beside Lin and putting his arms around her, squishing his cheek against hers. Toph imagines that they both look sweet and pathetic and puts her hands on her hips.

"One cup of tea," she says stoutly, "and then it's lights out, little miss."

"Yay!" Lin and Sokka cheer, running as one into the kitchen. Toph follows at a leisurely pace, detouring into her room to strip off her uniform and slip into a pair of loose pants and a robe. When she makes it back to the kitchen, water is already boiling merrily on the stove, Lin and Sokka chatting to each other about a mile a minute. Lin enjoyed her Uncle Aang's company best, but Toph liked how Lin got when Sokka was around; her solemn little girl grew so much more animated it was like she had a split personality.

"How was work?" Sokka asks lightly, pouring the water into a teapot and steeping the tea leaves. Lin puts her chin in her hands, listening carefully.

"It was fine," Toph shrugs, the warm smell of the tea loosening the knots in her back even more. "Tedious, but fine. The paperwork part always takes forever."

"That's 'cuz Gin is a slow reader!" Lin chirps, accepting her teacup from Sokka. "You need a faster reader, Mommy."

"One day I'm gonna fire that kid and replace him with you," Toph grins, waiting patiently while Sokka adds a tiny sip of cactus juice to his and Toph's cups (how does she know this? He's just taken a swig of it and is taking longer than usual to get her tea to her. She appreciates the thought). "You'd read and write fast for me, wouldn't you?"

"The fastest!" Lin smiles. Toph can tell from her heartbeat the playtime high is wearing off, and from her voice that the calming tea is making her sleepy already. "Mom, can I play over at Tenzin's tomorrow?"

"On my day off? Are you sure?" Toph teases, though a note of real hurt worms its way into her voice. Sokka places a teacup in her hand, squeezing her shoulder.

"There you go, Madam Chief of Police, ma'am," he salutes, settling into the chair next to her. "Lin, your tea's gonna spill."

Lin corrects her teacup and yawns widely.

"I won't be gone all day," she protests. "Tenzin said he found a new trick he can do with airbending and Bumi said he wanted to play pirates and give Tenzin the eyepatch. Tenzin would look funny with an eyepatch."

"If Tenzin's gonna look funny, how could I say no?" Toph laughs, reasoning to herself that Lin is still young, and there will be other days off for her anyway. A few moments of peaceful tea-sipping silence arise, and Lin's head gives a definite wobble that says to Toph she's drifting off.

"Alright," Toph sets her cup down, "bedtime."

Lin protests weakly as Sokka picks her up, quieting when he lays her down on her bed and Toph fumbles to pull the covers up and tuck her in.

"'Night, Mom," she yawns. "'Night, Uncle Sokka."

"Goodnight, little badgermole," Toph replies.

"Sleep tight, sweetheart," Sokka smiles, smoothing the blankets and leading Toph to the door. Lin is fast asleep before the door shuts all the way. They listen to her snore for a moment, then Sokka runs his thumb across Toph's cheek.

"I think it's your bedtime, too," he murmurs, tracing the bags under her eyes. Out of Lin's sight, the weight Toph has been carrying all day bows her shoulders, and she leans against the wall, sighing.

"That weasel-rat slipped out of my fingers again," she says quietly. "I don't know how Yakone does it, but he's harder to hold onto than smoke."

"You'll get him," Sokka says confidently, running his hands up and down her arms soothingly. "It'll be alright."

Toph closes her eyes (needlessly, but the action makes her tired eyes tingle anyway) as Sokka's hands travel from her arms to her shoulders to her hair, carefully undoing the trademark bun and shaking out her hair (it's getting so long again). His fingertips linger on her jawline and chase away her bangs from her eyes. His breath smells like tea and cactus juice as he leans forward and plants a kiss over each eyelid. She's long learned that such caresses and touches don't have to have a passionate meaning behind them, particularly between her and Sokka, but there's an unmistakable heat blooming in her belly nonetheless.

"Bedtime," he whispers simply, taking her hand and walking side-by-side with her to her bedroom down the hall. He doesn't let her go but for a brief moment to shuck his shirt, then tucks her safely against his chest. She sighs and takes a deep breath of the musk and leather and spice of him.

"Bedtime," she agrees, letting the warmth and steady heartbeat rock her gently to sleep. Sokka listens to her breathe, stroking her hair rhythmically. He thinks of Lian sometimes when they go to sleep like this, but tonight's dreams feature glowing milky green eyes and rough dark hair sliding through his fingers. He startles himself awake, and untangles himself from around her, padding to the bathroom and taking a good long look at himself in the mirror.

Yakone's streak of untraceable violence is affecting his work, too, but if he looks at himself long enough, he knows that's not what's bothering him tonight. He touches his skin, rubs his scruff, and takes out his own wolf's-tail. When he goes back to bed he makes sure there's a pillow's distance between him and Toph. Her face scrunches, but she doesn't wake up. Sokka watches her sleep and imagines his limbs are made of lead so he doesn't wake her.

He'd never touch her without her consent—he knows what kind of man he is—but it's a long time yet before he can fall asleep.

* * *

A/N: And the pieces start to click together. Unfortunately for everyone, there's about three chapters left before anything happens-and, if memory serves, about four more years.


	8. Chapter 8: Family

Chapter Eight: Family

"No! Wrong! Do it again!" Toph's loud voice echoes across the field, where Sokka is helping Katara set up the picnic lunch they'd brought (alright, the lunch Katara had brought—Sokka had mostly hovered and stolen bites of savory rice when her back was turned). Aang and Toph are supervising the children, and from the sounds of things, Toph is squeezing in some last-minute training for Lin before the festivities. Sokka absently sticks a piece of fried moo-sow in his mouth, sucking the sauce from his fingers as he watches the kids. Aang shows Tenzin how to make an air scooter, while Kya and Bumi climb a tree and discreetly pelt their younger brother with acorns.

Lin, on the other hand, is red-faced and panting, struggling under the weight of the rock her mother's put on her shoulders. Sokka double-takes, himself—it's a huge rock, bigger than the girl herself. He bites his lip and Katara puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe you should go tell Toph to give it a rest for the day," she says worriedly, and he nods, standing up. Before he can get to his friend, however, there's a scream, a crash, and in a whirl of orange cloth and dirt Aang has Lin scooped in his arms, the rock the six-year-old had been carrying previously crunched into the ground. Toph's face is dark and thunderous.

"Toph, that was too much," Aang says sharply. "It could have hurt her."

"No, it couldn't," Toph replies. "If she'd been in any real danger, I'd have handled it. And anyway, she can take it. Put her down," she frowns, "because she's going to try it again."

"No," Aang disagrees, his voice going to dangerous territory, "she's not. You're pushing her too hard."

"Like I pushed you?" Toph snaps, throwing her chin up and standing toe-to-toe with her friend. Lin cowers closer into Aang's chest. "She's my kid. I think I know what she can and can't deal with. Stop babying her and let me do my job."

"No!" Lin shrieks, her voice muffled. Toph cocks her head.

"What did you just say to me?" Toph says softly. Sokka picks up the pace, because he knows that tone of voice and knows it's not going to be pretty if she's not stopped.

"I'm not gonna do it again!" Lin replies, more strongly. She scrambles out of Aang's arms and stands on her own two feet, glaring up at her mother. "I can't do it. You're always saying I can do stuff when I can't!"

"You _can_ do it, you're just—" Toph argues, but she's arguing with a child who has every stubborn bone in her body that Toph herself has, and Lin interrupts her.

"_No!_ I'm not gonna do it anymore!" But because her face is red and Sokka knows she's released the floodgates, she keeps going. "I hate you! I wish you weren't my mom!"

With that declaration hanging in the open air, Lin stomps away, leaving Toph with a tightly-shut jaw and over-bright eyes. Sokka looks at Aang, and after some silent conferencing Aang takes off after Lin. Katara herds her children back towards the picnic blanket, and Sokka puts a hand on Toph's shoulder.

"You know she doesn't mean that," he says softly, but she brushes him off, putting one highly sensitive hand on the rock Lin left behind. With a sharp jab she reduces it to rubble. But she doesn't stop there, continuing to pound and stomp and punch, until both her and Sokka are sneezing from the dust. He lets her take out her frustration calmly, then when all that's left is dust he takes her hand and gently leads her away, sitting with her underneath the tree that until recently had held his mischievous niece and nephew.

"She doesn't mean it," Sokka repeats. Toph sniffs, scrubbing at her eyes.

"How do you know that?" she asks, her voice rough.

"Because I knew another girl like her once," Sokka shrugs. "Tough, stubborn, headstrong. Thought she hated her parents, too, but eventually came to terms with the fact that she didn't, not at all."

Toph smears her nose with the back of her hand. "Haven't talked to them in years, though," she grunts. "I don't…I don't even…" she coughs, then rubs more vigorously at her welling eyes. "Sokka, I don't even know if they're alive anymore. They don't know they're grandparents. Or…well…if they do, they didn't hear it from me. What kind of kid does that, anyway? Just…shuts their parents out?"

"The kind that had a hard childhood," Sokka replies. He hesitates, then puts his arm around her. "I know why you're hard on Lin, but keep in mind she's still just a little kid. Just…just remember to take it easy on her, from time to time." He nudges her. "And to apologize, if you push her past her limit."

She nods absently, but lunch is almost done with before Aang and Lin come back to the picnic. Lin sits with Tenzin and doesn't talk to her mother, not that Toph tries overly hard to make conversation, but once she's eaten her fill Toph takes her aside. Sokka can't hear what they're saying, but it ends with hugging and Sokka isn't worried.

"Was she okay?" he asks Aang. The airbender nods, swatting Bumi's hand away from his plate.

"Just shaken up," he nods. "She's just like her mother, though. She was more angry at herself for not being able to lift the rock than she was at Toph for pushing her."

Sokka plays with his chopsticks for a minute before saying, "You know, she hasn't talked to her parents since before Lin was born."

Katara sighs. "I know," she says softly. "I've…been keeping in touch with Lady Bei Fong."

Sokka blinks. "And you didn't tell her?"

"Poppy doesn't want another disastrous reunion, like last time," Katara replies calmly. "I promised I wouldn't tell Toph until Poppy and her husband are ready. If they've reached out to her and she's ignored them, that's her business."

"I think she might be ready for a reconnection," Sokka says, quietly, because Toph is coming back, holding Lin's hand.

Later on Toph and Katara close themselves up in Aang's office while Aang and Sokka roughhouse with the kids, and a few hours later Toph comes out and announces that her parents are coming to visit.

The week leading up to the Bei Fongs' arrival is a hectic one; between Toph furiously attempting to finish all her paperwork with Aang's help, Sokka and Katara frantically cleaning the apartment, and Toph pacing back and forth until there's a visible path in the floor, Sokka isn't sure how much more his nerves can take.

The night before the arrival, once he's helped Aang clear the dishes in Toph's apartment and he's thanked Katara for the excellent meal, Toph takes him aside.

"I'm not sure I can do this," she murmurs, her fingers weaving and twitching worse than ever. "My mother's telegrams sounded civil enough, but who knows what my dad's gonna do?"

Sokka runs his fingers up and down her arms, because that always seems to calm her down, but he doesn't really have a good answer for her. "It'll be okay," he finally ekes out, feeling useless, and advises her to try and relax.

"It's just for a few days. You can do this," he urges.

The next morning, all four of them are there at the docks, waiting for the Bei Fongs to arrive. Aang's children (rather, the two eldest) are surprisingly well-behaved, and Lin didn't resist the hair-brushing Katara forced her into. Neither did Toph, for that matter; she's still wearing her Chief of Police uniform, fresh from the office and jittery, one of her hands around Sokka's bicep on the wooden pier.

The ship comes into view through the smog slowly, then is all too soon docking, and then an elderly Lord and Lady Bei Fong disembark, looking strangely antique in their traditional clothing. A servant follows, struggling under the weight of their bags.

It's silent, too silent, as Toph keeps her mouth shut and her parents don't say much of anything, but, to everyone's shock, it's Lin who breaks the silence.

"Are you my grandparents?" she asks. She takes a few steps forward, dragging Toph with her, and cocking her head to the side. Poppy Bei Fong leans over slightly in an attempt to get on the girl's level.

"I believe so," she says sweetly, a smile creasing her finely-lined face. "Are you my granddaughter?"

"I guess so," Lin shrugs. "Mom?"

Poppy straightens as Toph lets go of Sokka's arm and relies fully on her daughter's direction, taking a few more steps forward and looking uncertain.

"Hi, Mom," Toph says. "Hi, Dad."

The silence stretches on until something apparently breaks, and Toph is engulfed in her parents' arms, Poppy sobbing and Lao squeezing his eyes shut like he can't believe it. Toph lets go of Lin's hand and fists her own into her parents' clothes, burying her face in her father's neck.

"We're so sorry," Lao keeps saying, as though by repeating it he could repent for the years of silence, and Toph hiccups.

"I'm sorry, too."

One way or another, the Bei Fongs let go of their daughter and inspect their granddaughter, who is obliging and chatters at them all the way back to the apartment. Sokka and Toph have a quick conversation, and he heads Aang and Katara off.

"We'll visit them later," he says softly as Toph directs her family towards her home. "Right now, she needs some alone time with her parents. Reconnect, you know."

"Are we sure they're not gonna try to drag her off again?" Aang teases. At least, he tries to.

"What, big bad metalbender like her?" Katara smiles. "She'll be alright." She takes her brother's hand. "Do you want to come back with us? Stay for dinner?"

"I'll be alright," Sokka shrugs, smiling back. "I'd better go home in case someone blows out the side of a building."

Katara grins, but there's a hairline crack in her expression and Sokka can feel it in his own. Watching Toph reconnect with her parents makes them both wish theirs were still around. Aang clasps his shoulder, and for a moment he feels guilty. The moment passes, and he ruffles Bumi's hair, squatting to look his niece and nephews in the face.

"Give your parents plenty of trouble from me, alright?" he grins, winking as Bumi salutes him. "Alright, buzz off. I'll be fine."

So he goes home. He strains his ears, but he knows his hearing isn't good enough to listen in on conversations happening half a block away. However, his guessing is more or less over when, sometime after midnight, there's a quiet tap at his door.

He opens it up to find Toph, still in her uniform, bleary-eyed but smiling a small smile.

"We're alright," she says peacefully. "They're staying for about a week. And I'm gonna…" she bites her lip, sighs, and sticks her hands in her pockets. "I'm gonna try to loosen up on Lin. It's not fair to her for me to always be so hard on her. I know she's great, and I know she's talented…but trying to force her to being just like me doesn't fix anything."

"You're pretty smart, Chief," Sokka grins, leaning against his doorjamb. "The visit go well, I guess?"

"Yup," Toph smiles. "I guess it's pretty hard to stay mad when I'm Chief of Police and Dad can't be overprotective anymore."

"And when you've had some sake with your dinner," Sokka teases. She chuckles.

"He drank more than I did," she admits. "I think he's still trying to adjust to being a grandpa." Her smile fades a little. "Lin adores them."

"Big fancy rich folk?" Sokka guesses. She shakes her head.

"They're just so…_understanding_," Toph sighs. "I mean…I'm glad, but…"

"You wish they could've been like that when you were her age," Sokka says quietly. Toph bites her lip, but nods.

"Well, you can't change the past," he shrugs. "But they're here now. And if Lin has an opportunity to know her grandparents, take that opportunity. Family doesn't last forever, no matter how bad you wish they did."

They're silent for a few minutes, then Toph vaults on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his cheek. At least, he thinks that was her intention; she got the corner of his mouth, instead.

"Goodnight, Sokka."

"'night," he returns, shutting the door as she walks away and fingering his mouth before shrugging and going to bed.

* * *

A/N: I'll be straight with y'all: I'm most worried about this chapter. I'm afraid it tries to do too much and I failed, but I knew that I wanted Toph to reconnect with her parents at some point. It happens late, later than maybe I'd like, but maybe being away from my own family now has made me go gooey over this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9: Lost

Chapter Nine: Lost

Toph still feels numb and heavy when she comes to.

Her limbs, which for so long have been her eyes and weapons, have failed her. No, that isn't it—they've been _taken_ from her, forcefully. She has no way to fight back against that kind of power. It isn't like she can _see_ the monster, and even if she could, it wouldn't help. He'd controlled the entire room with his hands bound.

She stays limp for a few minutes, then curls into a ball, covering her head with her hands. Her pride rails at her, tells her that she is forty and too old to be acting like this, but her fear coils around her and holds her fast. This has _never_ happened to her before.

Well, once.

She's been suspended in midair before, held miles above the hottest flame she's ever felt, but then she'd had an anchor, someone holding onto her as her muscles seized up and telling her in a no-frills way that this was it.

Her body tingles unpleasantly with the combined memory and sensation returning as her circulation gets back up to speed. Slowly her "sight" returns, her cheek pressed reassuringly against the stone floor, but still she doesn't move. She hears the tentative voices of her stirring officers, but doesn't loosen until she senses a gait she is well-trained in noticing by now.

Sokka gently hauls her up, brushing hair back and asking her if she's alright. She nods dumbly, and with his wobbly assistance makes it back to her feet.

The day isn't over. Of course it isn't. There is a statement to prepare and a press conference to attend, not to mention preparation for the newest trial against Yakone the former bloodbender. There is paperwork to file, her officers to re-motivate, and a Council-assigned psychiatrist to fend off (Sokka might've agreed to help with that snag). Finally, exhaustingly, her day ends. Funnily enough, around the same time, so does Councilman Sokka's.

Once upon a time it would have been the greatest of scandals that the Chief of Police and the Head Councilman went home together, but the press had wrung that story dry long ago, almost at the cost of their friendship. Since her unexpected pregnancy and life as a single mother, something had changed between them, something on another level entirely from the camaraderie they were used to. It doesn't have a name. It's just part of who they are now.

Lin is with her Aunt Katara and her kids. As much as Toph wants to see her, she knows that she isn't in the right frame of mind to approach her daughter right now. She's failed Lin, failed everyone. She's underestimated a dangerous criminal, and that mistake has almost cost her both her life and the wellbeing of her city. That kind of failure isn't fit to be the mother of such a strong-willed and talented young lady like Lin.

"Stop," Sokka says sharply, his voice startling Toph from her brooding.

"I'm not doing anything," Toph retorts.

"You're wallowing. It's not healthy." Sokka returns to the table with two small cups and a large bottle in his hand. "It's not your fault, what happened today."

Toph remains silent, her many arguments against that statement roiling in her and clamoring for release. She is contemplating which would best fit her mood when she is interrupted again.

"None of us had any idea what he was capable of. No one blames you, and you shouldn't blame yourself," he says gently. He touches one of her smaller hands with his larger one and knocks back a shot. Toph throws down her own and realizes that they are going to go round and round about this topic for a few weeks and she doesn't feel like arguing her point right now. Sokka being Sokka, he'll pick up on the other thing bothering her fairly quickly.

Neither of them speak until the bottle is half-gone, but Toph doesn't feel drunk, exactly; mostly woozy and grim. Apparently Sokka is the same, because after a moment of hesitation (heart skittering a little, muscles tensing), he takes both of her hands in his.

"He made me watch," he says shortly. "Most everyone in the room could see you, but he _made_ me watch. He turned my head for me when he moved you and wouldn't let me look away when he knocked you out."

She isn't sure what to say to that and stays silent, squeezing his fingers and stroking the back of his thumbs with her own.

"Reminded me of that other time," he grunts. "I don't…I don't like thinking about…"

Toph squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips to Sokka's hands. They flutter loose from her and cup her face, stroking her cheeks and the sudden wetness.

"As long as I'm able," he murmurs quietly, "I'm…_always_…gonna be around to protect you."

"Same," she croaks, running her hands up and down Sokka's forearms. "Always. Just the same."

Sokka moves to sit in the chair next to her, then shifts her around so they are touching, forehead to forehead, alcohol-breath mingling and body heat sharing, taking absolute comfort in the fact that they are alive and whole and, for the moment, together. Drops from his eyes soak into her pants and for a moment they simply breathe and cry together (_crybabies_, her inner mind notes, gently amused more than condemning).

Toph thinks about kissing him again, a real kiss, not the fiasco that happened about ten years ago when they were both so hammered neither of them remembered stumbling home drunk. She touches his scruffy jaw for a moment, thinking. Then he stands up and the thought leaves her.

They've fallen asleep together more times than they care to count over the years, but rarely have they just lain in bed side-by-side, breathing and listening to the silence and pretending to be asleep when they really aren't. Toph outlasts him, but only just; as his steady breathing and heavy warm arm entice her consciousness away she touches his jaw again.

"I love you," she murmurs. With nothing left to offer, she follows him into dreaming.

Or so she thinks; what she doesn't realize is that he's awake, and he heard her. He buries his head in her hair, grown long again, breathing her in as deeply as he can.

"I love you, too," he whispers. But she's snoring, and it almost doesn't seem fair, but in Sokka's heart he knows—with a certainty he reserves for knowing that Yue and Lian both loved him, and that his mother and father loved him, and that Aang and Katara and every close friend he's ever had love him, and that he loves them all fiercely—that with them, time doesn't mean much. One day, and one day soon, they'll both be awake and ready for the kind of sappiness that usually came with that sort of confession.

For tonight, he'll hold her and admire the moonlight on her still-smooth skin.

* * *

A/N: This is one of those from Tokka Week that I knew, when I reread it, I needed to expand on, even in this little way. I'm sorry for my wall-of-text ways, but-you know what, no, I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all. :) I AM a little bashful at not including Lin in this chapter, since I know she'd be frantic over her mom and uncle's safety, but...this just wasn't the place. Imagine it, if you will, because the next chapter is the last. I'm horrible, I know.


	10. Chapter 10: Moment of Truth

Chapter Ten: Moment of Truth

When the moment of truth comes, it comes quietly. There are no passionate speeches of love felt now and forever made, no falling into arms and into bed, no music, no fireworks.

(_Those would in part come later, when there wasn't a rambunctious nine-year-old around and no work to be done for several days straight; plenty of time to inform their friends of their spur-of-the-moment nuptials and honeymoon on one of the many deserted islands in Yue Bay too small for habitation but just right for a small getaway._)

There is a pot of tea, a woolen blanket for a chilly afternoon, and a few heartfelt words murmured into still-dark hair.

And that is just as it was meant to be.

* * *

A/N: I don't care how many of you hate that this is how it ends, I LOVE it. It's fitting to me, to have something quiet and understated-because, as I've come to realize through writing this, their romance isn't the Epick Romanse to End Everything. It came quietly, it snuck up on them, and they built it up over a period of almost fifteen years without realizing it.

Title of this fic comes from the song Turning Page by Sleeping At Last, which is my favorite song at the moment. It seemed fitting.

Hope y'all enjoyed, and if you didn't...well...sorry. I'll do better next time. If you have questions, concerns, or cries of heresy, please leave a review! Thank you!


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